


dissatisfaction

by karcathy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 04:24:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18491284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: It's a familiar dance: never quite enough, vexing and enticing and eternally frustrating. Angela finds herself back with Amélie time and time again; tonight is no different.





	dissatisfaction

Amélie's hands were on her the moment Angela opened the door, the soft beep of the lock accepting her keycard and the heavy clunk of the lock giving her more than enough warning. Her hands were soft and cold as ice against the doctor's as she drew her gracefully into the room and towards the bed. 

“It's been too long, _cherie_ ,” she said, her hands moving to Angela's cheeks. She tried not to shiver at her touch. 

“I know,” Angela said, her voice soft in the almost non-existent space between them. Amélie was holding her face almost close enough to kiss, her grip gentle but unyielding. Staring into her eyes was its own kind of thrill at this distance; that yellow gaze belonged unmistakably to a predator, and at this range, there could be no escape. It was exhilarating and foolish, being so entirely at her mercy, knowing that at any time she could be killed. That, by all rights, she should already be dead. 

“Did you miss me?” she asked. Even her breath felt colder than it should against her lips, dampened by her nervous tongue. 

“Of course,” said Angela. She could feel her pulse racing in her neck, against the light touch of her cold fingers, even as she felt her body yearning for closer contact. Amélie waited in silence, her gaze unblinking. Angela swallowed, her eyes darting down to her lips and then back to her eyes. “I missed you every day,” she said, her breathing quickening, “I thought about you every night.”

The small smile from Amélie was equal parts terrifying and alluring. She was intoxicating; even as she killed you, you'd go down wanting more. 

“Tell me,” she said, moving backwards, her hands slipping to Angela's wrists and tugging her irresistibly towards the bed. 

“It's impossible to get you out of my head,” Angela said, closing her eyes and frowning as she took a hesitant step, “I thought it would get easier.”

“You did?” Amélie said, her voice soft and amused. 

“Yes,” Angela said, looking her in the eye again. Amélie was kneeling on the bed, still drawing Angela towards her as she moved backwards with impossible grace. “I could go hours – maybe _days_ – without thinking about you. Without wanting you. But it's impossible to stop,” she said, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she joined her on the bed, her hands slipping free of her grip as she lowered them to balance herself, “Eventually, my mind would drift and you'd be there. Waiting.”

“I'm always waiting,” Amélie said, a smug smile forming on her lips as she settled against the pillows, “You can leave whenever you like.”

“You know I can't,” Angela said with another sigh. She bit her lip before more words could spill out, digging her even deeper into whatever _this_ was – as if there was still any hope of escape.

Amélie just smiled, her face glowing with the satisfaction of a huntress who has her prey cornered with no hope of escape, only that she might toy with it a little longer before she became bored. Angela shifted her weight, gravitating instinctively towards Amélie even as she told herself to leave. She wouldn't leave; she never did. 

“Amélie,” she said, her voice soft, her tone pleading. 

“Come here,” Amélie said, pushing herself up on one elbow, her free hand extended languorously towards Angela. Helplessly, she came, crossing the space between them until she lay facing her. Amélie's fingers tangled in her hair, tugging just enough to give the suggestion of pain, as she pulled Angela in, at last, for a kiss. Angela's mouth opened helplessly at her touch, desperate for more but unable to take, only to accept what was given. She went easily onto her back at the softest push from Amélie, letting her roll on top of her and control the kiss entirely, her hands resting on the small of her back, fingers flexing unconsciously against the fabric of her shirt as her desire for more warred with her inability to take it. Amélie pulled away, breaking off the kiss, resting her forehead against Angela's. Her forearms were braced around her head, trapping her hair; if she attempted to continue the kiss, it would hurt. She didn't try. 

“ _Cherie_ ,” Amélie said, her voice soft and intimate in a way that made Angela's heart flutter. 

“Yes?” she said, the word almost lost in the breath of her exhale. She felt like something inside her was tearing, or something along those lines – she couldn't think straight and she didn't want to, she just wanted to feel Amélie's lips against hers again. 

“Tell me what you want,” Amélie said, her lips brushing against Angela's as she spoke. 

“I-I want you, I want,” Angela could hardly get the words out, her breath stuttering in her throat, “I want this, I want you, I want _everything_ , I want to feel-”

Amélie cut her off with a kiss, her tongue pressing into her mouth. Her cold lips were warming with the contact, the cool slickness of her tongue a sharp contrast against the needy heat of Angela's mouth. She took her warmth and left her with this – this emptiness, this constant yearning for more.

“Tell me,” Amélie said, breaking the kiss again to press her lips, still cool, against Angela's throat, making her shiver with the contact. 

“I want, I want,” Angela said, choking on the words bubbling up through her inhibitions. 

“Tell me,” Amélie said, more insistent, her kisses more teeth and less tongue now against Angela's racing pulse. 

“I want you to-” _Pause. Gasp._ “I want, I want to feel you.” _Shudder_. “I want you to touch me, I want to, I need to, I need you so bad-” A long, shuddering gasp escaped her as Amélie mouthed the hollow above her sternum, pressing just hard enough that it felt like she might choke. “Make me forget- forget my name, forget who I am, forget who we are.” Her voice was pleading, whining, desperate as Amélie left bite marks along her collarbone. “Please. Amélie. _Please_.”

A sharp huff of breath left Amélie's lips as she pulled back, the first crack in her icy demeanour showing as she sat straddling Angela's stomach. Her fierce gaze was captivating, holding Angela frozen against the pillow, her hands sliding to rest limply beside her. 

“Amélie,” she said, her voice soft, helpless as she stared up at her, “I wish this could last forever.”

Amélie's face was carefully blank, and Angela let her eyes drift half-shut, blurring her into a soft-edged image, backlit by the bright halo of the ceiling lamp. She didn't speak, letting her hands drift down to the front of Angela's blouse. She tore it open with no effort, buttons scattering across the sheets, and Angela drew her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down as Amélie tugged her shirt down her arms, pulling the straps of her bra with it. The cups inverted messily, the strap tangling as her breasts came free, her nipples pink against the pale flesh. Amélie's mouth was all tongue and teeth, still cool against her hot skin. The sensation was soothing and arousing all at once, as her hard mouth bruised and then her cool tongue relieved the pain. Angela moaned as Amélie took a nipple between her teeth, the pressure just the right side of painful. 

“I've missed this, I've missed you,” she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. 

Amélie smiled, the expression sharp, her eyes cruel. She pulled away, Angela's spine curving in a futile attempt to maintain contact as she withdrew. Her fingers seemed colder as they pressed into the soft flesh above the waistline above Angela's jeans, or perhaps Angela was just hotter now, her bare skin turning pink, beads of sweat beginning to form. 

“Amélie,” Angela said again. Her name was like a prayer, or something of the sort. Perhaps it was a desperate bid to make the moment feel real. “Amélie,” she repeated, trying to lift her hand but finding her arm trapped by tangled fabric. With an exasperated sigh, she managed to free herself from her blouse and bra with some undignified wriggling, trapped on her back by Amélie's unyielding weight against her hips. Amélie smiled at her again, the same vicious smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of Angela struggling under her weight. Angela huffed, blowing a few stray strands of hair off her face. 

“Amélie,” she said, lifting her hand to cup her cool cheek, “You're such an insufferable tease.”

“You love it,” Amélie said, turning to press a kiss against Angela's palm before sliding out of reach, her hands deftly undoing Angela's jeans and tugging them down to her knees, pulling her underwear down with them. 

“I do,” said Angela softly. Amélie came back up to kiss her again, Angela pushing herself up on her elbows to get closer to her. She kicked her jeans off, undignified again but, after some struggling, she was finally naked, with Amélie on top of her. Amélie was dressed all in black, her whole body covered aside from her face and hands, and her cool air of detachment was infuriating and arousing all at once. “Touch me, Amélie,” Angela said, her hands grasping Amélie's hips, “Please.”

“I am touching you, _cherie_ ,” Amélie said, hiding her smile – this one looked more genuine – by kissing Angela's neck. 

“You're terrible,” said Angela, rolling her eyes as Amélie trailed kisses down to her collarbone, her cool fingers sliding down her stomach. Amélie grinned before kissing Angela again, one hand trailing across her thigh and making her shiver as her cool touch moved inwards. “Fuck, your hands are cold,” Angela said, breaking off the kiss to gasp. 

“They'll warm up soon enough,” Amélie said. Angela shuddered as a cold finger moved between her lips, softly circling her hole. It felt curiously artificial, like being touched by a robot - or at least, how Angela imagined that would feel. She didn’t have anything to compare it to; Amélie was wholly unique. 

“You’re so wet already,” Amélie said, her voice teasing, “I’ve barely touched you. Are you really so desperate?”

“Shut up,” said Angela, her face reddening.

“It’s flattering, really,” Amélie assured her, slipping one finger inside as her thumb slid up to circle her clit. Angela gasped at the contact, arching her back and pressing in towards the hand inside her. Amélie continued to touch her, just a little too gentle to be really satisfying, watching Angela’s face intently. 

“Come on,” Angela said, pushing up against her more insistently, “Just fuck me.”

“So blunt,” Amélie admonished her, feigning a gasp as she pulled back. 

“Please,” said Angela, her hand closing around Amélie’s wrist as her fingers slipped out of her. 

“Better,” Amélie said with a smile, gently tugging her wrist free. She licked her fingers clean in a way that was unfairly seductive, then slid off the bed, turning away to rummage through a dark backpack she’d left nearby. Angela propped herself up on her elbows, watching with interest as she retrieved a black leather harness and an elegant dildo she recognised from previous encounters. Amélie strapped it on with practised ease, over the top of her black leggings, and returned to the bed, one hand cupping her silicone cock. 

“Is this how you want me?” Amélie said, sliding Angela’s legs apart and crawling onto the bed, her knees between her legs and her hands on either side of her. 

“Yes,” said Angela, drawing her knees up and letting them flop outwards, her hips lifting involuntarily upwards. 

Amélie tilted her weight onto her left hand, using the right to gently guide her cock inside of Angela, where it slipped easily into place. She stayed still for a teasing moment, then began to move her hips, slowly at first and then harder, fucking her into the mattress hard enough to finally begin to feel satisfying. The burn of the friction was pleasant, and Angela let upper body relax into the soft bedding, her hips twitching as she felt the pleasure building up. She could happily stay like this for a while, but she could feel that she wasn’t going to climax like this. Her hips dropped with a soft sigh, and she slid back a little, letting the dildo slip out of her. 

“Not in the mood?” Amélie asked, sitting back on her heels. 

“She’s not doing it for me,” Angela said, giving the dildo a nod.

“Ah,” she said, her face carefully blank, “You want to stop?”

Angela sighed, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “No,” she said, reaching out as if to touch her but stopping just short, “I want _more_.”

“Tell me what you want,” Amélie said, taking her hand and slipping the tip of her index finger between her teeth, biting just enough for her to feel it. 

“I wish you’d let me give you something,” Angela said, her expression soft but frustrated.

“Give me this,” Amélie said, dropping her hand and moving forwards to press her mouth against her inner thigh. 

“You know what I mean,” Angela sighed, dropping back onto the bed and letting her legs drift apart, “You never relax. You never-”

“I get exactly what I want,” Amélie interrupted, and Angela scowled. “Now, tell me what _you_ want.”

“I want- I want to do these things to you, make you feel the way you make me feel,” Angela said, her hands clutching the sheets as Amélie’s tongue grazed up her thigh.

“Tell me more,” Amélie said, her breath making Angela shiver. 

“If you wanted it, I’d give you anything, I’d make you feel me through your whole body.” Amélie’s mouth was against her now, her tongue slipping inside, her face pressed close against her. “I’d take it so slowly, you’d be the one begging me for more, you wouldn’t want me to stop.” Angela’s hips were twitching again, thrusting involuntarily against her mouth. “You’d - ah - be telling me how much you wanted me.” Every muscle in her thighs clenched, her hips lifting up as she chased that last, crucial bit of pressure. Angela moaned softly, the tension building up to its climax, and then relaxed, her breath coming out in a soft puff. “I’d make you go all soft - so you’d never want to leave me.” 

“How romantic,” Amélie said, a small and somber smile on her lips as she withdrew. 

Angela just sighed.

“I’ll see you again.”

Angela nodded, swallowing the words that rose in her throat like bile, and smiled, a little bitterly. “Yeah,” she said, looking up at the empty room, “I’ll see you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> not entirely happy with this but it's been a wip for a very long time and i wanted to get back into writing so i figured i might as well finish it...


End file.
